


When we're this entwined

by redsnake05



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Accidental Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:50:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan and Spencer wake up married. Spencer knew he would do anything to keep Ryan close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When we're this entwined

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zeenell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeenell/gifts).



Spencer woke up to an unfamiliar hotel ceiling. He blinked twice before he realised that the bed next to him was rumpled and that he was mostly naked. The faint sound of pathetic retching reached him from the bathroom and he sighed. His head hurt to much for him to panic, and, besides, he had been out with Ryan last night. It wouldn't have been the first time they had ended up half-naked and in bed together. They had been snuggling for comfort since they had been kids, after all. He rolled carefully out and snagged a glass from the dresser as he passed on the way to the bathroom. Ryan had always been miserable when hungover, and today he was still crouched in front of the toilet, even though he'd stopped heaving. Filling the glass with water, he shoved it in front of Ryan and rubbed his back soothingly as he took long swallows.

"Spencer," said Ryan. His voice was cracked and low, but there was a thread of uncertainty running through it that Spencer didn't recognise. It had been a long time since he'd heard it. He helped Ryan to his feet and let him turn in the circle of his arms. Ryan had his hands up in front of his face, thumb of his right hand running over the gold band on his left ring finger. "Fuck, Spencer, what did we do?" he asked. Spencer's stomach flipped as he reached up and captured Ryan's left hand in his own and there was a matching glint of gold from his ring, too.

"We got married," said Spencer. His voice was a little steadier but not much. Mostly, he felt relieved, like he wouldn't have to worry about Ryan escaping him now that he was tied to Spencer like this, but the hangover made it hard to think clearly. Looking at Ryan and holding his gaze, Spencer threaded their fingers together.

"How did that happen?" asked Ryan. He didn't sound angry; more lost and bewildered. Spencer shrugged. Banging started on the hotel door as Spencer opened his mouth to reply.

"Plane time, assholes," shouted Brendon, from the other side.

"We have to go," Spencer said. "We'll figure it out, okay?" Ryan smiled at him, still wobbly and off-balance. Spencer squeezed Ryan's fingers. "You're still coming back with me, right?" he asked, smiling faintly when Ryan nodded. "We'll sort it out when we get home." Ryan looked like he wanted to say something, but Brendon's voice and hammering was getting louder. Spencer just pressed a kiss to Ryan's forehead and headed for the door to tell Brendon to shut the fuck up. He didn't look back, even though his stomach churned with guilt and nerves. He didn't want to see Ryan's face.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

The plane ride was awkward. Spencer gave Ryan the window seat, requesting a blanket with a smile from the flight attendant and wrapping Ryan into it with tender hands. His finger felt oddly bare already and the ring was unexpectedly heavy in his pocket. Ryan's expression was blank and he was unresponsive, curling away from Spencer. It wasn't that different to how he usually behaved with a hangover, but it made Spencer anxious, even when Ryan's breaths evened out and he fell asleep.

"Dude, you're twitchy," complained Brendon, on his other side. Spencer raised his eyebrows. Brendon was unrepentant, despite being the twitchiest guy Spencer knew. "You are," Brendon said again. "I know it's weird, Ryan coming out for the end of the tour when he's not in the band anymore, but it was _your_ idea. Relax, for fuck's sake." Spencer sighed and scrubbed his hand through his hair.

"Yeah," he said. It had been weird, having Ryan watching from the side of the stage. Spencer wanted to have him close, that was a constant itch under his skin, but it had felt utterly wrong last night, and Spencer had looked for Ryan on stage more in one set than he had the entire rest of the tour. Spencer glanced at Ryan, still curled away and mostly relaxed. He thought of the ring and the vows that they must have spoken last night and about how he'd always believed that Ryan would be by his side forever without ever needing proof. Now, when they had wedding rings and actual promises, Ryan felt more remote than ever before. He dragged his hand down over his face and sighed. It wasn't supposed to be like this' marriage wasn't supposed to be a cold and lonely state.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

There had always been a Ryan-shaped space in Spencer's life. He could scarely remember a time when Ryan wasn't there, fitted against him and adapted for every part of his self. With Ryan in his apartment in Vegas for a week, Spencer was relieved to find that most of the numbing wrongness that had plagued him over Ryan's absence was gone. There were new and unfamailiar edges to both of them, things that surprised Spencer, but mostly he was relieved. The ring and the marriage certificate stayed in his dresser drawer but Spencer touched Ryan more; casual brushes of fingertips when handing over cups, more hugs.

They sat on the couch watching some infathomable foreign movie and Spencer's attention wandered to Ryan. It always did these days, like the certificate had given him permission to notice things about Ryan he'd never seen before. Ryan's hair was long enough to curl over his collar and Spencer found himself touching it without giving himself conscious permission. Ryan shot him a glance, but Spencer just smiled and shifted to sit sideways so he could smooth the curls between his fingers better. Ryan's hair was cool and smooth under his skin, but his neck was warm whenever he touched that.

Ryan looked at Spencer sideways, trying to maintain his concentration on the movie. He hadn't spoken to Spencer about their accidental marriage since that morning. Spencer would think he'd forgotten it, except for the way Ryan would sometimes freeze when flicking through the newspaper, staring at the wedding announcements and the big pictures of smiling couples for a tense moment before continuing on. Spencer wondered how far he'd have to go before Ryan told him to stop touching. They were married now, whether they had intended to be or not, and Spencer found himself looking at Ryan more often and thinking about the curve of his throat and how it would feel to kiss it, how things would be between them if they were really married. If Ryan believed they were married the way that Spencer was wondering about.

Pushing Spencer's fingers away from his hair, Ryan got off the couch and went into the kitchen. Spencer could hear him rummaging in the fridge and wasn't surprised when he came back with two beers. He shoved one into Spencer's hands and visibly hesitated before he sat down, obviously debating whether to sit close to Spencer. Spencer took a mouthful of beer and watched him, smiling when Ryan sat back down right back where he'd been before. Spencer didn't wait this time, reaching out to stroke his fingers over Ryan's hair and down his neck, across his shoulders, as Ryan stared fixedly at the screen.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

The first little bit of time back at home always felt a little like swimming underwater. Days blurred into each other as Spencer caught up on sleep, ate home-cooked food, and lounged. Ryan seemed content to match his pace, reading and writing in his ever-present battered journals. Spencer knew he'd have to leave soon, go join Brendon in LA and write more and record what they had, but he didn't want to give up Ryan's company. Working with Brendon was great, easier than anything with Panic had been towards the end of Ryan and Jon's time with them, but there was something so comforting about Ryan's presence round the house. Spencer was still touching him.

He walked into the lounge, expecting to find Ryan stretched out on the couch. Spencer hoped he would be sleepy and warm, so maybe he could curl into his side and touch him while he was drowsy and pliant. Instead, he found Ryan sitting on the edge of the couch, staring at Spencer's answering machine with a face so blank it made Spencer shiver. Ryan didn't even look up at Spencer, even though he must have heard Spencer come in. Instead, he reached out and pushed a button on the machine. Spencer's stomach sank; whatever was on the tape must be bad.

Tensing further by the second, he listened to Ian's voice on the tape, asking how his marriage plan to Ryan was working before getting to the point of whatever the call was. Spencer wasn't listening by then, and neither was Ryan as he jabbed another button viciously.

"Your _plan_?" he asked. Spencer looked down at his fingers, bare and twisted together. "Your fucking _plan_?"

"Ryan-" started Spencer, but Ryan cut him off, jerking to his feet and pointing an accusing finger at Spencer.

"Don't even, Spencer, you fucking _ass_. You planned this, planned to get me drunk and get us married, for what, a fucking _joke_?"

"Not a joke," said Spencer. His guilt choked him, dull grey and bleak. He'd known this would come back to destroy him, but he'd been desperate.

"What then?" demanded Ryan. "You fucking lied to me, you did. What the fuck was it about, the touches, the fucking _hugs_?"

"Not a lie," said Spencer. "All those times, there was no lie." Spencer couldn't bear the accusation in Ryan's voice, the way it shook with fury and hurt. He swallowed hard, wishing that he had a gift for saying what he thought without barriers or prevarication. He knew, though, that Ryan's gift for only hearing what he wanted to hear was stronger. That's what had driven Spencer to this, thinking that marriage was the only way to hold on to what he wanted. Drunk, it had seemed like the perfect solution, and he had been sure that Ryan would see that. He'd been blaming himself, guilt and self-recrimination crawling under his skin every time he touched Ryan and Ryan smiled and touched back. The worst part was how it had felt so fucking perfect, and how it was all crumbling in his fingers now. "I don't want to lose you," he said. "That's all, Ryan, I _love_ you, I can't bear to lose you." He knew, even before Ryan's mouth twisted in derision, that it wasn't enough.

"You did lose me, the fucking instant you trapped me with your drunken promises," hissed Ryan. He dashed his hand over his face like he was chasing away something that was going to escape. "I'm out of here," he said. He stepped towards the door and Spencer could see his future, all his dreams, going with him.

"Ryan, please," he said, "please, I didn't do this to hurt you. I love you, I want you, and this is the only way I could see to do it." Ryan didn't even look at him, brushing past and out the door of Spencer's place, slamming the door behind him. When Spencer heard the car start in the driveway, he dropped onto the couch and rested his head in his hands.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Brendon opened his door to Spencer and pulled him inside and into a hug without asking about anything at all. Spencer figured that the circles under his eyes were explanation enough. He knew how he looked, how he'd looked for every second of the days since Ryan had left and not answered any of Spencer's calls. He knew Brendon's sympathetic silence wouldn't last forever, though, even as he pushed Spencer in the direction of the stairs to put away his stuff. It wore off as they sat at the kitchen table, Spencer clutching the coffee Brendon had shoved at him like a lifeline.

"When I met you," said Brendon, "I thought you and Ryan were boyfriends and it took me about three months to be sure that Brent was right and you weren't." Spencer nearly choked on his coffee and Brendon smiled, a sweet, almost wistful smile, like the memory was bittersweet.

"How do you know what happened?" asked Spencer. He hadn't told anyone.

"I had a phone call from Jon Walker," said Brendon. Meeting Brendon's gaze, Spencer was reminded of just how stupid he had been. Even during worst of the Panic split, Ryan and Spencer had been close, as close as ever. It was only when he tried to cling to Ryan, fearing losing him, that Ryan had truly slipped from his grasp.

"He says Ryan is miserable," said Brendon. His voice was impersonal, at odds with the whiteness of his knuckles as he clenched his hands on the tabletop. "He also reminded me that it took him _four_ months to be certain that I wasn't shitting him and that you and Ryan really weren't boyfriends."

"He's miserable?" asked Spencer. Brendon huffed irritably.

"You both fucking do this," he said. "You never _talk_, either of you. You're always looking out for the things he can't say, and he's always watching for the things you deny, and somewhere in there you both fucking miss what should be right in front of your fucking faces." Brendon looked furious for a second before he covered it up again.

"I don't know how to fix this," said Spencer. It took effort to shape the words, ones that he wasn't sure he'd ever said to Brendon before, or Jon or Ryan for that matter. He felt helpless and he hated that. He'd just wanted to hold on to Ryan, he hadn't even realised that his desire was sexual too until it was under his nose and he'd already done the damage. "I didn't know how much I wanted him."

Brendon snorted. "Welcome to the real world," he said. Spencer caught the tail end of an expression on Brendon's face that he didn't recognise, but it was gone even as Spencer opened his mouth to ask about it. The doorbell rang, though, and Spencer had no trouble recognising Brendon's expression of satisfaction. "I'll just leave you here. Jon and I are going out. Ryan's probably freaking out and being an ass in his car. You know your options."

Spencer stared down at his hands, remembering a time when Ryan's skin was as familiar to his fingertips as his drumsticks were. Brendon had thought that he and Ryan were boyfriends; Jon had thought it too. Spencer couldn't remember a time he didn't want them to be together, one way or another. The thought that Ryan was just outside, nearly paralysed him. Knowing that this might be his last chance forced him out of his seat, even though he had no idea what to say or do. He made his way to the front of the house, where the door was wide open and Ryan was framed in the middle of it. Rubbing his damp palms on his thighs, Spencer stared at him. Ryan looked thin and tense, arms wrapped round his body in self-protection. Before Spencer could formulate actual intent, he was already reaching for Ryan. Ryan unfurled his arms and flung himself against Spencer, fitting against him like the missing piece of something Spencer's been puzzling out since he was five.

Ryan's shoulders were shaking and Spencer's hand automatically soothed over his neck. The action was familiar, but the weight of anticipation and desire in the touch was not. Spencer had gone far beyond pushing for any of that, though. He was willing to take whatever Ryan could give him.

"I missed you," said Ryan, face pressed into Spencer's shoulder. "I always fucking miss you, but I never knew just what would fix it."

"I'm so sorry," said Spencer. Ryan lifted his face and cradled Spencer's jaw in one hand, dragging him into a kiss that was rough and off-centre, but still a perfect press of lips. Then he tilted his head and Spencer gasped as Ryan turned the kiss hungry and wet. He opened his mouth and let Ryan in, slotting the last parts of their tangled relationship together. Ryan's lips felt familiar from years of platonic kisses, goodnight kisses and kisses for scraped knees and broken hearts, but the inside of his mouth, the drag of his tongue and the nip of his teeth were all new and shockingly intimate.

"No," said Ryan, between two kisses. "No sorry, no regret." He kissed Spencer again, hard and just this side of too much. His hands were shaking but sure and possessive on Spencer's back and Spencer wasn't sure where the boundaries were between them anymore. He didn't care, just kissing back with one hand buried in Ryan's hair and the other low on his back, sliding up under his shirt.

Spencer's phone rang in his pocket, Brendon's stupid ringtone blaring into the quiet sound of their kissing. Ryan pulled away from the kiss but not from Spencer, smiling into his neck as Spencer cursed and wrestled the phone from his pocket.

"What?" he demanded, concentrating on Ryan pressed up against him.

"Dude," laughed Brendon, "dude, you left the door open." Spencer looked up, over Ryan's head, and saw it was true. Brendon's car was in plain view across the road.

"You dirty fucking voyeurs," he said. Brendon's laugh was bright and cheerful in his ear, Jon's more distant but no less amused. Spencer snapped his phone shut and looked down at Ryan. Smiling back at him, Ryan's lips were swollen and his cheeks flushed.

"I kinda feel like putting on a show for them," he said. Spencer laughed and walked him backwards, towards the open door.

"I kinda want to have you all to myself," Spencer said. He caught the edge of the door with his foot and kicked it shut, crowding Ryan back against the wood. Ryan's face was still tipped up. His smile had curved into a smirk, eyes dark and intent. Spencer's breath caught as he thought of all the things he wanted to do with Ryan. Some were things they had always done, but there was a special significance to them now. Some were things he'd never been allowed to do before, things he'd only just thought of. Those were still new and slightly terrifying. Ryan tilted his head and dragged Spencer back into another kiss, even hotter than before. Spencer shifted, working his thigh in between Ryan's and running his hands down Ryan's back to grab his ass. He was turned on, sizzling with lust, and he couldn't believe he'd gone so long without having this. He broke the kiss to mouth along Ryan's jaw to his ear and down his neck.

"I used to sleep with you," gasped Ryan, "in a _twin bed_." He ground up into the weight of Spencer's body. "How the fuck did I miss this?" Spencer made a noise that was partly agreement and partly question into Ryan's collarbone. He shifted his hands, cupping thrm round Ryan's hipbones so his thumbs rubbed over Ryan's pockets as they moved together. The hard outline of something round in one of them made him pause.

"What's this?" he asked, lifting his head. Ryan blushed red and cleared his throat nervously. Smile unfurling over his face, Spencer lifted his hand to dig into his own pocket and pull out the tiny band of gold he'd been carrying round. Ryan stared at it for a moment before he smiled too. It looked like triumph did on his face, fierce satisfaction and joy mingled, the determination not to squander it. Spencer knew that Ryan would never let go of him any more than he could leave Ryan.

"Want to marry me?" Spencer asked, holding the ring up still. He looked at Ryan, at every broken, jagged edge to him that interlocked with the shapes Spencer had grown into. Ryan looked back and laughed, flinging his arms around Spencer's neck and snuggling close.

"Want to carry me to your room?" he asked. "Brendon and Jon aren't going to stay in the car forever, and I want to suck my husband's cock."

"Fuck," breathed Spencer. He urged Ryan to wrap his legs around Spencer's waist and turned for the stairs. He was pretty motivated to get to wherever he and Ryan needed to go.


End file.
